Not Nothing Now

I would offer you a smoked oyster, says Saint Roley, but I see they have teeth marks.

Thank you. Your delicacy is noted, says Humboldt.

Which way did you mean that? asks Saint Roley, tucking in.

Both ways, says Humboldt. I thought it an apt remark.

You are good with words, says Saint Roley.

My brother was better, says Humboldt.

Was? says Saint Roley. Have you too lost a brother?

We lost touch, says Humboldt. We had different intellectual interests. He became a linguist and diplomat. I became an explorer, after mother died.

Was she kind, your mother? asks Saint Roley.

She was distant and stern, says Humboldt.

Are you SURE? asks Saint Roley.

Humboldt thinks about his mother, who really was distant and stern, and had wished him to become a civil servant.

He has not thought about her in years.

Now he is older he should try and remember her nice side.

He tries.

He absently picks up a smoked oyster. Chews it.

Tries to picture her smiling, and patting his curls. It could have happened.

Good aren't they, says Saint Roley. I feel replete now. Will you do me a favour?

Certainly, says Humboldt. What is it?

Help me off with these socks, says Saint Roley. People have been laughing.

Feet up! says Humboldt.

Saint Roley sticks his feet up, just as Terence walks past.

Forty eight rings, says Terence. And we've only got ONE!

What are you talking about? asks Saint Roley.

The bandy bandy, says Terence. It has forty eight rings on its socks!

Not on its socks, says Saint Roley.

Humboldt agrees. It is highly unlikely.

On its legs then, says Terence. When it crosses the road in the night time.

Legs! Where did you get hold of such nonsense? asks Humboldt.

Gaius, says Terence. He read out his notes. And I had to answer three questions.

What were they? asks Saint Roley. Let's see if I know.

Why, why and why, says Terence.

I don't know, says Saint Roley. These are difficult questions.

I'm intrigued, says Humboldt. You stay here Terence. I'm going to sit next to Gaius and get to the bottom of it.

He gets up and moves down the aisle, with his recycled smoked oyster.

Okay, parrot, says Terence. What's this stinky food you're eating?

Oysters, says Saint Roley. What did you get, off the trolley?

NOTHING! says Terence. Except a red drink.

That's not nothing, says Saint Roley.

It is now, says Terence.